Chapter Twenty-Five

Grabbing Everly’s hand, I take off. The house begins to crumble behind us, like in an old Indiana Jones movie I’d watched as a child. However, Indiana, as the hero of the movie, was guaranteed an exit.

Unfortunately, this isn’t a movie set, and I will never be cast as the hero.

“Faster, love.”

Our feet pound against the ancient wood. Gunshots ring out, putting holes in the walls and allowing sunlight to shine through.

“They’re inside the wall,” a man shouts.

Fuck me. “Down.” I shove Everly to the floor, covering her body as bullets begin to rain down on us.

Everly starts to cry. “I don’t want to die.”

“It’s okay. We’ll be okay. I promise.” When the bullets stop, I jump to my feet and peer through the holes, then take aim. One. Two. Three clean shots to the throat. Each man goes down like a heavy sack of potatoes, clutching at his neck.

“Up on your feet,” I say, helping her to stand. I break out into a jog, noting with pride that, despite her tears, she’s keeping up and holding it together.

“Only a little bit further.”

The hardwood floors give way to hard-packed dirt. Roots dangle from above. Exhaling, I slow down and glance at her, putting one finger over my mouth. I have no idea if they’ve discovered this place. No one knew about my escape route, not even Gustav—the traitor.

Carefully, I climb the wooden stairs leading up into the kitchen and push up a little before assessing the area. It’s empty, the thick layer of dust indicating that no one has been in here for years.

I shove the entire hatch open and motion for Everly to join me. Wrapping my arms around her, I guide her to a rocking chair and place the bag in her lap. “Hold this, please.”

She looks up at me gratefully. “We made it.”

“Mostly.” I don’t want to get her hopes up. “We still have to get to the outbuilding and into my Land Rover.”

Parting the curtains, I check our surroundings. Nothing. Not a car or man in sight.

“Do you need longer or can we go now?” I ask, trying to be considerate.

Shooting to her feet, she swings the bag over her shoulder. “Now.”

“You would make a fine assassin.” Or she would once she learned how to defend herself properly.

Her brows crease together. “Except I don’t know how to use a gun, and I’ve never killed someone.”

My smile falls. I clear my throat and run a hand through my hair. “The gun knowledge, I can supply.”

“And the other?”

“I pray to God you never kill anyone.” I grab her hand once more, and head outside.

We make it to the outbuilding and into my SUV without incident. I start the engine and begin to drive in the opposite direction of the mansion.

“Oh my God,” Everly gasps, looking back.

I glance into my rearview mirror, watching in pure disbelief as the house we just left goes up in flames.

“If Agent—Viktor is dead,” Everly begins, “then who would do that to you—us?”

“I don’t know, but I am going to find out. What do you remember about the day I was shot?”

Everly lets out a mirthless laugh. “Which time?”

“Second.”

“After you were shot, all these men showed up. They were dressed in black, from head to toe. Viktor was more concerned about me, I think, than you, because he was the one to get me out of there.”

“He didn’t stay behind?”

“He told one of the men to get rid of the body.” She runs her hands over her face. “I’m sorry, but I don’t…I don’t remember much after that.”

“Don’t apologize. You’ve helped me more than you know.”

With a grim smile, I hold up my phone and text Ben. I need his help once more—I need to find out who Viktor was working for.

“I asked Ben to meet us in Barcelona, at the Hotel Majestic.”

Everly glances at me. “We can drive there?”

“We’ll take the train.”

“But I don’t have my passport. I have no idea where any of my things are.”

I train my gaze on the road. “That won’t be an issue.”